A Stranger in your own Body
by Vincent Argeneau
Summary: Harry Potter in a new way. A young Harry, raised in an orphanage feels strange in his own body. The caretakers realize this, and help him to remedy this. Trans.Harry, probable homosexual situations, possible lemons. Rated M for mature content, don't like, don't read. No pairing as of yet, please read and review.
1. That Fateful Night

AN: _Hello everybody, my name is Vincent Argeneau, not J.K. Rowling. Therefore, I do not own Harry Potter. What I do own is a deep hatred for Ginny Weasley. Any quotes in this work of fiction will be captioned in superscripts (aka:__1__quote__1__) properly attributed to their owners at the conclusion of the chapter. That is all. And now, on with the show._

Chapter 1: That Fateful Night

It was a cold, silent night on Privet Drive. As well it should be on Halloween in Surry. The children had gone to sleep, stuck in sugar induced comas until their parents should wake them up for breakfast the next day. With a faint pop, the silence was broken as an old manmade his way slowly down the street, his half-moon spectacles glinting in the streetlight.1He was tall, thin, and very old, judging by the silver of his hair and beard, which were both long enough to tuck into hisbelt. He was wearing long robes, a purple cloak which swept the ground and high-heeled, buckled boots. His blue eyes were light, bright and sparkling behind half-moon spectacles and his nose was very long and crooked, as though it had been broken at least twice.1 Stopping at regular intervals, a small click could be heard as the man held up a strange, lighter-like object. With each click, the nearest streetlight would go out, cloaking the old man in the darkness that flooded in with the absence of the light. He made his way in this fashion all the way to number 4 or Privet Drive. He then waited.

It was not too long until a tabby cat slunk around the corner of the house, hiding behind the man as it uncharacteristically looked around. The old man looked down at it, stroking his long, silver beard as he chuckled. "My dear Professor McGonagall." he spoke softly. "I must confess, this is a pleasant surprise. Should you not be out celebrating with the rest of magical England?" As he turned to look behind him, it became apparent that the cat was no longer there. In its place was a stern looking elderly woman, her hair in a tight, immaculate bun. Square glasses were perched on her nose as she looked to the man. She wore robes similar to the man's, but hers were a deep emerald green.

"Albus." She nodded her head slightly in greeting. "You know that I never was one for celebrations, especially of the kind taking place tonight." She said, her lips coming together tightly in an expression of distaste. Her eyes then bored into Albus' with a look of desperation. "Is it true, Albus?" She asked, a hardly noticeable quaver evident in her voice. Albus nodded solemnly, his eyes closing as he sighed heavily. "Lily and James" he started "were murdered by the Dark Lord Voldemort." The woman opposite him gasped and her eyes widened drastically. "And the boy?" She queried. "Safe." Albus stated firmly. "And no doubt tired from the excitement of the evening." Professor McGonagall breathed a sigh of relief. "Albus, what happened there?" She asked, disbelief staining her voice. "I'm afraid it is impossible to know, my dear Professor, exactly what occurred at the Potter household. We can only speculate and make educated guesses." The elderly man looked to the sky wistfully. "Of course, I have my own theory, but it is only an old man's take on a strange situation. All we know is that somehow, this boy was able to reflect Voldemort's spell back at him and defeat him. Magic will always defy our wildest dreams, and this situation is no different." Albus smiled gracefully, looking back down to Professor McGonagall.

"What is to become of him, Albus?" The woman asked slowly, dreading the answer. Albus gestured to the door in front of them. "Hagrid is bringing the boy here, where he will be cared for by his relatives." He explained . "I believe he will be safe and loved here, without the burden of being famous before he can walk and talk. He should grow up in the embrace of his family, not the media." Albus finished, a sad look on his face at the thought. "Albus, no. No, no, no." Professor McGonagall stated vehemently. "I've sat here all day watching these… people. They are the worst sort of muggle imaginable. They cater to their son to the point criminality. The young boy is insufferable. He wails like a banshee when he does not get his way, and continues until he parents acquiesce. And the parents themselves are no better! They bully the neighbors, and sneer at anyone that does not conform to their way of thought. They are not a healthy family, Albus." Professor McGonagall ranted, her voice reaching a point that Albus pulled a stick out of his sleeve and waved it, causing a hazy barrier to form around them, then disappear.

"A privacy charm, my dear Professor. I was not expecting you to lose your control like that." Albus chided, a chuckle behind his words. "Now, even though you bring up those points - and they are all valid ones – the Dursleys are still Harry's family. The only family he has left. Therefore he will be left with them until such a time as he should come to Hogwarts." Albus stated. His voice was such that it brooked no disagreement. Professor McGonagall opened her mouth to begin arguing the point, but a curt look from Albus hut her off, and her teeth came together with an audible click. She was not happy, and knew nothing good would come of this placement.

At that moment, a dull roar could be heard in the distance. Turning their heads the two elderly people saw a pinprick of light getting bigger as the noise increased. Professor McGonagall leaned toward Albus, saying "Are you sure it was a good idea for Hagrid to deliver the Potter child?" Albus turned his head toward Professor McGonagall and said serenely "Minerva, I would trust Hagrid with my life, which admittedly is becoming more fragile with the years." The air seemed to shake as a large motorbike could be seen coming toward them not from the ground, but the sky. Its front wheel dipped down, and it approached the ground at an alarming pace. Minerva held her breath as it touched down, revealing the rider.

He was tall, a giant of a man really. Standing easily over ten foot tall, the man seemed to be able to fit five men in his trousers. His shaggy black hair was long and wiry, as was his ample beard. His beady black eyes resembled beetles as they peered out from a craggy, darkly tanned face. In one of his hands he held a small bundle that he had cradled to his chest. In his arms, it seemed to be no more than a balled up bit of cloth, but Albus smiled gently upon seeing it. "Headmaster Dumbledore" the man began, his voice gravelly and sad, tinged with an indescribable hurt. "I brought Harry, jus' like ye asked. He's out now, mussa fell 'sleep as we was passin' o'er Bristol." He said quietly, glancing down at the bundle in his hand. It moved a little, and a tuft of messy black hair was revealed, a yawn issuing from deep inside the cloth.

"Ah, Hagrid," Albus greeted, "thank you. If you'll hand him to me, we can get him taken care of and be on our way." Hagrid nodded sadly, and lifted up the bundle to his lips, placing a tender, but very whiskery kiss on the small boy's head. He then stooped down and handed the boy to Albus, who took out his stick again, waving it and making a small basket appear out of thin air. He then placed the small boy in it with a note, and waved his stick again. "A warming charm," he explained to Minerva, "so he might evade the cold air of this night." Albus then walked up to the door of number 4 Privet Drive, and set the basket with its precious cargo on the stoop, to be discovered in the morning. "Sleep well, Harry Potter. A great destiny awaits you in the future." He whispered to the infant. Albus stepped back and motioned Minerva and Hagrid to the corner where he'd appeared. Hagrid took his motorbike with him, and Minerva followed slowly, a worried look on her face. There was a click, the roar of an engine, and two faint pop. Then, all was as it should be on Privet Drive, save the slightly rustling bundle on the stoop of number 4.

As the moon made its nightly journey across the sky, 2people meeting in secret all over the country were holding up their glasses and saying in hushed voices: "To Harry Potter – the boy who lived!"2

AN:_Greetings dear readers. This chapter was obviously just the prologue, a way to get my creative juices flowing. It may not have been the most original of things, but I tried to make it interesting. Please leave your comments in the comment box, no review will go unanswered. Now, for the quotes:_

_*__1,2__: Chapter 1 of "Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone" by J.K. Rowling._


	2. A Day with the Dursleys

AN: _Hello again dear readers. I'm honestly surprised at the turnout of followers for this fiction. I've only got the first chapter done, with nothing really original, and I've gotten ten already. Please enjoy this new chapter, and I'll speak a little bit more at the end of it. Remember, it's all original from here._

**Chapter 2: A Day with the Dursleys**

On the morning of November 1st, Petunia Dursley awoke early to the sound of her child screaming from a nightmare. She quietly slipped out of bed, careful not to wake her husband Vernon. She made her way down the hallway and opened her son's door. Petunia worked her way around her child's myriad toys, and eventually got to her son's side. Kneeling, she took a good look at him. He was thrashing about wildly, his brow slick with sweat, blonde locks tousled and plastered to his face. His face was scrunched up with fear, but it was obvious to the worried mother that her precious boy was still unconscious.

Dudley Dursley was a very large child, due to the fact that his mother and father doted on him. He was thoroughly content that he was the shining star in his parents' lives. He got all the food he wanted, had love heaped upon him like blankets on a winter night, and he got to do whatever he wanted. Dudley was not a smart child, as anyone but his parents would notice. He was greedy, attention-seeking, and already a little menace. All of the people in Privet Drive were appalled at the way they saw the Dursley parents spoil their son.

But if they could look through the window now, they would notice the tender look in Petunia's eyes. The way her fingers barely touched his forehead as she brushed away his sodden hair. "Dudley." She whispered, shaking him a little bit. He groaned and whimpered in response. "Dudley, it's mummy. Wake up for mummy, yeah?" She said a little louder, and she grabbed his shoulder, shaking a little harder. "Diddy darling, you're having a nightmare, please wake up for mummy." Dudley calmed a little bit in his crib, but his face was still tense, and his body stiff. "M-mummy…" he squeaked out, his infantile voice melting his mother's heart at hearing the fear in it. His eyes opened, and clear, dark blue eyes stared at a familiar face.

Dudley, now firmly awake, was picked up by his mother carefully. "I think my precious Diddy needs a nappy change, yeah?" Petunia cooed at her son, who babbled back incoherently in what could have been an imperious voice. "Oh, and my big boy is hungry too, huh? Does my darling want some porridge and rashers this morning? That'll make you forget all about that big bad dream." Petunia giggled lightly as Dudley nodded vehemently, and pointed to the stairs from her arms. She took him downstairs, and put him in his high chair, scooting him up to the table. She put some water in a pot and set it on the stove and lit it, then turned back to Dudley. "You be a good boy and watch this water while mum goes and gets the milk from outside, right Dudders?" Petunia said, scrunching her nose at the child. He banged his hands on the table in response, smiling at his mother's antics.

Petunia sauntered toward the front door, idly speculating on her life, unaware that the normalcy she wrapped herself in was about to be undone like so much bubble wrap. As she opened the door, Petunia looked down and saw the daily milk bottle on her stoop. She leaned down and placed the empty bottle in her hand on the ground and picked up the new one, when she noticed something out of the corner of her eye. It was a basket. _Strange, _she thought. _It is not my birthday, nor Vernon's, so why would there be a gift basket?_ For that was all it could be, in her opinion. The basket was ornate, and had a card on top of the contents. _**To: Petunia Dursley**_, it said. She idly picked up the basket and put the milk bottle in it, noting its weight, and inspected the card back and front as she walked back to the kitchen. The material was familiar to her, but she couldn't place where she'd seen it before.

"I'm back, Duddy darling! Were you good?" Petunia called as she dropped the basket down absently on the countertop, paying no mind to the contents. She puttered around the kitchen, finishing her son's breakfast, and put it in front of him, at which point the one year old began to enthusiastically make a mess of himself, causing his mother to laugh as she pulled the basket toward her. She pulled out her letter-knife and broke the wax seal of the letter, unfolding it to reveal loopy handwriting written in emerald green ink.

"_My Dear Petunia," _the letter began, _"I believe you may be wondering as to the origin of this package, and I have no doubts that you began by reading this missive first, like any rational person would. I should have you know that my name is Albus Dumbledore, and I am the Headmaster for your sister's boarding school. I truly wish I could be the bearer of good news with this letter, but alas, it would seem to not be possible in this case. _

_Your dear sister, Lily Evans, was murdered last night in her home at Godric's Hollow. She was being hunted by a very bad man for a long time, and she was unfortunately betrayed by one of those she held closest. Her husband, James Potter was with her, as was her year old son Harry. James was also cut down, but their son – your nephew – lives on. You may now be wondering where he might be, but rest assured, I have put him in the safest hands I thought possible for him. It is at this time I think you should open the basket in front of you."_

Petunia's mind was numb, and her hands were shaking as she reached out to the basket. _No, _she thought _No. He couldn't have. Not like this. I made my peace, but Vernon… Vernon would make a huge fuss of this._ She flipped the blanket back, and sure enough, there was a small child with jet black hair and a large scar spanning his forehead. The wound looked fresh, and it lanced across his forehead like a bolt of lightning. Unsightly, in her opinion. Suddenly, his eyes opened, and he stretched, yawning as he blinked owlishly at her. Petunia's breathing hitched as she stared into the boy's eyes, the same eyes as her sister that she had so cruelly booted from her life years before. The corners of her eyes began prickle with unshed tears as she turned her eyes back to the letter in her hand.

"_I hope that you understand the gravity of this situation, Petunia. The child in front of you is Harry James Potter, your nephew He was born on July 31__st__, 1980. He is a wanted child by many of the people in his parents' world, and he would not benefit from that. He already has enemies, Petunia. Think about that, enemies. People firmly set against you before you can walk and talk. It is best that he stay with his family, so as to protect him from such persecution and speculation. I hope you will make the right decision and keep him, Petunia, for it is only with his mother's sister that Harry can be truly safe._

_Signed with deepest respect,_

_Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore._"

Young Harry's stomach made a gurgling noise as he wriggled in his basket. This sound startled Petunia from her reverie and caused her eyes to rest on her nephew. Harry's eyes stared at her quizzically, but oddly enough, the boy made no sound. He was silent, looking at her contemplatively. _Odd that he's not crying right now. If those people keep the same hours as normal people, she should have been there through the night. He must be freezing, not to mention starving. _Those were the thoughts that ran through the head of Petunia Dursley as she eyed the boy up and down. He seemed healthy enough, so her sister must have made a decent mother of herself. Now, how to deal with the child in front of her before Vernon woke up.

She couldn't keep him, no matter what that man said. If he was such a wanted child, their lot would eventually track him down to this location. They would hire a Private Investigator, or whatever their equivalent was, and she would be swamped with a load of unnatural people on her door-step before she knew it. No, she would have to take him somewhere. But where? There were no orphanages in Surry. And she couldn't leave her precious Dudley on his own for too long. Maybe that old Mrs. Figg down the street would be able to keep an eye on him for a while. Yes, that might work. That would work perfectly.

Petunia took out her Biro and pen, then sketched out a note to Vernon, letting him know that Dudley would be at Mrs. Figg's, and she would be to London on some errands. She knew he did not have work today, otherwise he would have been up already. _Thank my lucky stars for that,_ she supposed. "Alright, Diddydums," Petunia said, standing with the letter in hand. "We're going to go see old Mrs. Figg. You're going to spend the day with her, doesn't that sound like fun?" she finished, tickling his sides and taking him to the bathroom to bathe, leaving the curiously silent Harry Potter in his basket on the counter.

After getting Dudley all washed and dressed, Petunia stuffed a couple of fresh nappies into his baby bag and marched over to Mrs. Figg's house next door. Walking up with Dudley in hand, she rapped smartly on the door, and waited for the elderly woman to make her way there. After a good wait, almost 10 minutes, Mrs. Figg opened her door and squinted through aged eyes at the pair. "Oh, hello dearie, how can this old woman help you today? Tea?" She motioned behind her, opening the door wider to allow Petunia entrance. "I'm afraid not, Arabella. I've some errands to run in London, and Vernon is still asleep. I was wondering if you would be willing to watch Dudley while I was gone." Petunia held her breath as the wrinkled woman thought for a moment.

"Of course I'd be willing to take the little darling." Mrs. Figg said kindly. "The cats love Dudley, so don't you worry your pretty little nose off." Petunia sighed in relief, handing Dudley and his bag to Mrs. Figg. "Thank you Mrs. Figg, is there anything you'd like while I'm out to market?" "Oh dear, would you get an old woman some cat food while you're there? That would be such a kindness." Mrs. Figg asked absently, pinching Dudley's cheek as he attempted to fight off the offending digits. "We'll be fine here dear, so go and have a lovely time in London." Arabella waved at Petunia as she walked off to Vernon's car.

As soon as she was sure Mrs. Figg's door was closed, Petunia dashed into her house and snatched up the basket with young Harry in it. Wrapping the blanket tightly around him, she placed him back into the basket and penned a noted on her biro. _"Harry James Potter, born July 31__st__, 1980. Mother and Father deceased. Please treat him well." _Petunia then made her way to the car, looking around nervously as she placed him in the left back seat. It wouldn't do for him to be injured on the way to the orphanage, or she would feel obligated to take him to the clinic.

An uneventful hour later, Petunia parked her car on the block opposite a large, rainbow colored building. The sign read **'Mrs. Pierson's Orphanarium' **in large colorful letters. She saw no people outside and no lights on, indicating to her that perhaps the orphanage staff were not paying attention to the outside of their building. As nonchalantly as possible, Petunia walked across the street with Harry and deposited him on the stoop of the garishly colored building. She then turned and walked away quickly, the memory of innocent, vibrantly green eyes haunting her dreams for many weeks to come.

**AN: **Alright, and that's a wrap for this chapter, and I hope you all enjoy it. Please make sure to review this chapter, because I'm always open to feedback. As I mentioned before, no review will go unanswered, and no idea will be left unconsidered. That being said, I bid you adieu.

Signed,

-Vincent Argeneau


	3. From Ugly Duckling, to Beautiful Swan

**AN: **_Hello again dear readers. I hope you all enjoyed the last chapter, and I appreciate the two reviews. I promise a lot more screen time for Harry this time, so please enjoy. I've been getting a lot of follows, and a few favorites, and I think all of you for your support on my first story. Now, on with the show, and please enjoy the newest installment of A Stranger in your own Body._

**Chapter 3: From Ugly Duckling, to Beautiful Swan**

In the middle of London, there was a large, rainbow colored building. It was centrally located, near a park, a grocer's, a bank, and a library. Early in the morning, you could hear the sound of many happy boys and girls giggling and running about. It was breakfast time, and one of the volunteers made their way out the door to pick up some jam at the grocer's. As she stepped out the door, she noticed a bundle on the stoop. Bending down, she hoped beyond hope that it wouldn't be what she thought it was.

The elder matrons at the Orphanarium had told her what to do in these types of situations. She was to separate the blanket, and if it was a child, she was to bring it inside and to the attention of the matrons immediately. As she pulled apart the wrappings, she noticed the slight frame of a baby staring back at her with piercing green eyes. She lost herself in those eyes for a moment, knowing that whether this child was a boy or girl, that those eyes would get them a date sometime in the future.

She picked up the raven haired child and brought it in out of the chilly morning air, wondering at how it hadn't been screaming in discomfort. "Mrs. Pierson!" She cried, "Mrs. Pierson! There's been a 'parcel' delivered!" She emphasized the word parcel, as it was the staff's code for anonymous orphans. She heard footsteps coming down the stairs, and an elderly woman in a floral dress and frilly apron came down the stairs. She had iron-grey hair, a kindly, wrinkled face, and wire-rimmed glasses that covered her sparkling blue eyes. She wore a small pin on the left breast of her apron, depicting a triangle shaped rainbow.

"Oh, Clara. I surely hoped this kind of thing would never happen while you worked here." She said kindly. "Was there a note?" She asked, coming over quickly to pick up the child. Clara checked the basket, and indeed, there was a ripped piece of a biro note. _"Harry James Potter, born July 31__st__, 1980. Mother and Father deceased. Please treat him well," _Clara read out loud, noticing how hastily written the script was. Mrs. Pierson smiled a bit, scrunching her nose at the baby in front of her. "Well, that was certainly helpful. Concise and to the point. It's better than we usually get." Mrs. Pierson opened her mouth wide at Harry and wordlessly exclaimed at him. This caused him to giggle wildly.

"Oh, I think you'll fit in here nicely, won't you dearest?" She said in a baby voice, nodding her head. Harry nodded with her, smiling, with a few of his baby teeth showing through his gums. "Get me a clean nappy Clara, this boy hasn't been changed in a while, I'll bet. Odd though, he's not complaining about being dirty. Nor hungry, for that matter. Strange child." Clara dashed off, and returned a moment later with a clean cloth nappy in hand. The baby powder and the wipes were present as well. As she unwrapped the cloth around his waist, she noticed that he wasn't dirty at all. "Well, that makes sense if you haven't eaten." Mrs. Pierson said quietly to herself. "Let's get you changed anyway."

And as thus, Harry James Potter was brought into the fold of the Orphanarium. His everyday life was simple, but after a few years, the matrons and volunteers began to notice something strange about the young raven-haired boy. He rarely sat with the boys at meal times, and when playtime came about, he would socialize with the girls. He would wear girl's clothes given the chance, and he had a higher pitched voice than most boys did at his age. At age seven, they decided that Harry was old enough to be included in their conversations about him.

********Time Skip: Age 7********

Harry Potter walked into the office of the head Matron with a slightly confused look on his face. He had just gotten through playing house with his friends, when Ms. Clara had come to him and said that Mrs. Pierson wanted to talk to him. He wondered why. It was his birthday, but it was two others' birthdays as well. So he was confused as to why he didn't see the other two here as well. Mrs. Pierson was sitting in front of him, and so were the other elder matrons. "Harry, dearest," she started, "please sit here. We were about to start a meeting regarding you, and I think you are old enough now to be a part of it." Harry was flabbergasted. They held meetings about him? Was he doing something wrong, or was it just what they did for all orphans? In any case, he was happy that he was able to listen in.

"Now," Mrs. Pierson started. "This meeting is very special, as it will decide the future of one of our wards. Harry here has displayed some interesting behavior, and it is up to us as his guardians to make sure he is properly taken care of, physically, as well as mentally." Mrs. Pierson looked at Harry now with a concerned eye. "Harry, you know that we all care about you, right?" Harry nodded hesitantly, unsure of what was to come next. "We've noticed that you spend a lot of time around the girls, but almost none around the boys. Why is that, Harry?" Harry looked at them with innocent green eyes and responded "Because the boys are mean. And Lacey said that boys have cooties. I don't want cooties."

Mrs. Pierson and the other elder matrons laughed heartily at his response. Turning to the group, Mrs. Pierson asked "It is my suggestion that we put Harry into counseling. He is, as evidenced, not prescribing to the inherent gender role assigned to him. As you know, we are non-judgmental here, and we do not discriminate. I believe that putting Harry into counseling would help us determine whether or not he should make a transition from male to female or not." She turned to Harry and kneeled down next to him, her old bones creaking. "Harry, I want you to answer this next question truthfully, okay?" Harry nodded. "Do you feel like a girl more than you feel like a boy?" Harry nodded again, not hesitating at all.

The other matrons nodded in understanding, they had already come to this conclusion themselves. One stood up and looked around the room questioningly. "It is the decision of the elder matrons of the Orphanarium to allow Harry Potter, ward of Mrs. Pierson, to enter counseling at the expense of the city of London to determine whether he should make his transition to female or not. After a period of two years, in which Harry will live as a girl, with the girls, we will determine whether Harry should start on hormones. If that is the case, we shall also decide whether a change of names is necessary."

"Does this mean I get to wear pretty clothes like Lacey and Tanya?" Harry asked, picking at his pants uncomfortably. The matrons had known how smart Harry was, it was evidenced in his school marks, but to understand the concept they were laying out as they spoke about it? The child was clearly cleverer than they had thought. Mrs. Pierson beamed at Harry, attempting to smooth his wild black hair. "It does, dearest. It also means you get to grow your hair out like you wanted, and to room with Lacey and Tanya." Harry's face brightened considerably. "Yes! No more boys to make things difficult!" Harry exclaimed.

"Harry," Mrs. Pierson asked sweetly. "Do you want to be a girl?" Harry nodded exuberantly. "More than anything, Mrs. Pierson! I would be able to play with Lacey and Tanya more, and wear pretty clothes, and not have to room with boys!" Mrs. Pierson nodded and smiled. "Well then little GIRL, let's see what we can find in the clothing room for you, hmm?" Harry giggled at her emphasis, and had the feeling he would be having a better time ahead of him.

Alas, counseling was not a fun thing, nor was getting used to calling herself a she. Harry was schooled on girl's etiquette, and as those two years flew by, Harry forgot what it was like to be a boy. On her ninth birthday, Harry was brought back before the elder matrons, for the second meeting regarding her gender. This was the follow-up to the counseling Harry had been receiving and the lifestyle she had been living.

********Time Skip: Age 9********

Harry entered the room looking drastically different than she had two years ago. The time had allowed her hair to grow down to her mid-back. It was tousled tastefully, as if she had just left bed, with her bangs reaching to her nose in a spiky, seemingly unkempt fashion. The bangs were brushed off to the sides of her face, but a little would always return to the middle, making what almost seemed like an 'm' frame her face. The back of Harry's hair was restrained by a silk magenta hairband. It had been given to her as her birthday present from the Orphanarium when she had turned eight.

The back of her hair was a little less spiky, and a lot more curly; cascading down her back like a raging waterfall. And she kept it nice too. It was shiny and healthy looking, and it had obviously been taken care of well. Her clothing was spot on for a girl of her age: a light green tee shirt with a flower on the front, with dark blue jeans. Her shoes were worn out grey trainers with frayed laces. She had a circlet on that was made of daisies, and had some inserted into her hair, indicating that she'd just come from outside.

Mrs. Pierson looked at Harry endearingly, proud at how easily being a girl came to her. Now though, was a time to be serious. "Harry, dear, would you be a good girl and sit down so we can begin our meeting?" Harry nodded once and hopped up onto a chair, looking around at the people gathered. Once again, her was confronted by the elder matrons, but this time, her counselor was there as well. "Hello, Dr. Rowan." Harry said sweetly. "Hello, Matrons. Is this about me a girl?" She asked. The matrons were again surprised at Harry's insight. She would be a winner in the future, that was for sure. "Yes dear," Mrs. Pierson said, "now shush, and let Dr. Rowan speak."

Doctor Angela Rowan stood up from her chair and passed out a file to each of the matrons. "This is my recommendation that Harry begin hormone therapy immediately. She has already had her physical for the process, and thus I have included a prescription for the Estradiol. Once she properly begins puberty, however, she'll need to be put on a regimen of a testosterone blocker called Spironolactone. This will be so the conflicting hormones in her body don't cause undue psychological stress as her body changes to accommodate the estrogen."

"Your other girls here will be starting to go through puberty soon, so having Harry start the hormones now is suggested. I've said my piece, so I'll be on my way. Mrs. Pierson, you have a copy of the prescription, and the number to call me at. I've also included name change paperwork that you'll have to sign and take down to the courtroom. You should be proud, Harry picked that name herself. Good day everyone. Goodbye Harry, I'll see you at our appointment." Harry waved to Dr. Rowan as she exited the room.

The spokesperson for the matrons stood, and all eyes were on her again. "Based on the testimony of Dr. Rowan, we of the elder matrons endorse the beginning of hormones, and will charge the costs to the orphan medication fund. This meeting has been adjourned." And with that, the elder matrons filed out of the room, and Clara turned to Harry saying "Right, now why don't we go find some purple flowers to go with your white ones, Harry?" Harry nodded and took her hand and they vacated the room, leaving Mrs. Pierson to go through the paperwork on her own. When she got to the name change paper, she smiled gently. Harry was really a good child, and smart. She'd chosen a wonderful name. As she signed off on the paper, she said the name out loud. "Coline Gael Potter. Oh, that will take some getting used to, that's for sure."


	4. The Secret Life of Coline Potter

**AN: **_Hello dear readers. I would like to thank those of you who have reviewed, and note that your reviews have been responded to via PM. One of my reviewers has pointed out something to me that I think I should hit on though. It seems as though I am filling a niche in fanfiction. If anyone else can find a trans!Harry fiction, please let me know so I can read it and get some ideas for my own story. Also, there is a small thing you should know in this chapter. This will be the beginning of many a headache for the readers of this fiction, because I'll be referring to our intrepid hero as Harry and Coline for the next few chapters. Just know that eventually this will change, and I doubt it will take too long. That is all, and as always, on with the show._

**Chapter 4: The Secret Life of Coline Potter**

Two years had passed since the meeting with the elder matrons, and Coline Potter was ecstatic. It was her eleventh birthday, and a strange old lady had come to speak to Mrs. Pierson about her. Coline was hoping that this woman was here to adopt her. She'd been despairing of being adopted, because nobody wanted the older children, not when the young ones were so adorable and impressionable. But she was somewhat skeptical, for the elderly woman did not look to be the adopting type. What then, might she want with Coline, and why did the woman call her Harry?

Minerva McGonagall was not a happy woman. She was indeed the opposite of happy. She was furious. She would not allow her displeasure to show however, despite how thin she pursed her lips together while not talking. This matron in front of her was drudging up her past doubts and fears as if they were no issue of hers. She'd known it was a mistake to leave young Potter with the Dursleys. It seemed that as soon as they had awoken, one of them had dropped Harry off at this orphanage like so much baggage. Minerva did not allow herself the thought that the Dursleys had only done as much as Albus had that night.

And now this. Apparently Harry had gone and started a regimen of muggle potions that would turn him into a woman. The Headmaster would be furious. She had been sent to look for Harry since the owl that was supposed to carry his acceptance letter to Hogwarts had refused to budge. There were only two good reasons a magical post owl would refuse to deliver a message, the first being the death of the recipient, and the second being the change of part or all of their name. Since the receipt of all letters was part of her duty as deputy headmistress, she let Albus know of the situation before flooing to the Leaky Cauldron and apparating from there to the Dursley's home. She had made sure to transfigure her clothing into a respectable business suit, complete with pressed skirt, white shirt, and blazer with a button depicting the Hogwarts crest on it.

After knocking on their door and identifying herself as the deputy headmistress of a private school, she had inquired after Harry, only to be told firmly by the wife that he had never lived here and if you were looking for an orphan, she should check the Orphanarium in London. She was then abruptly facing the polished door knocker as if the door had never been opened. No matter her efforts, the door would not budge, nor would a peep be heard from within. Sighing, she apparated away, hailing a muggle motor-carriage once she arrived at the Heathrow airport.

The entire journey had led her here. There were small children everywhere, but only one that would match to the age Harry would be. A black-haired, green-eyed beauty that could have easily been Lily and James' daughter had fate turned in that direction. But she'd put the girl out of her mind in favor of the kindly looking woman in from of her. It looked as though they were of an age, but Minerva had aged more slowly due to the ambient magic in Hogwarts. Mrs. Pierson had immediately ushered Minerva into her office once she had inquired about Harry Potter. Once offered the requisite tea and biscuits, Minerva had been grilled as to her purpose at the Orphanarium by a steely-eyed Mrs. Pierson.

"I assure you madam, that I only have Harry's best interest in mind as I extend him this invitation." Minerva stated, somewhat off her game at the authority with which this kindly woman spoke about Harry. "Her name is Coline, and it would be in _your _best interest to remember both those facts when you speak with her. _If _I allow you to speak to her. She has already received a scholarship to Woldingham Girl's School for her marks, and I am proud to say that she's been the only transgender afforded the opportunity in the history of the school. Tell me why she should go to this school all the way in Scotland if she has such a wonderful opportunity in front of her."

Minerva was flabbergasted and appalled that a boy would be afforded the opportunity to go to an exclusively girl's school, no matter the potions they were on. "Erm," she started, having a hard time getting past this new bit of information. "For starters, Hogwarts is Ha-Coline's parents' alma-mater," Minerva caught herself, not wanting to raise any of this woman's ire, "and I believe that as an orphan, she might want to honor her parents' memories. Secondly, Hogwarts is a very exclusive school in Scotland, and not many other than legacies and those with exceptional talent are given the opportunity to apply, let alone be accepted since birth."

Mrs. Pierson leveled her patented scrutinizing gaze at Minerva, and despite herself, Minerva began fidgeting with her pressed skirt as if she were an adolescent child about to receive judgment from her mother. It was an uncomfortable experience to say the least. Not even Neville Longbottom's grandmother was this good at causing nervousness and apprehension in her guests. Minerva's respect for the muggle woman had been raised slightly, and she knew that if Harry had been raised by this one, then there would certainly be no rule-breaking or mucking about as had been the case with his parents.

"Mrs. McGonagall, if you would excuse me, I will bring Coline in to you so she may hear your proposal. I will of course wait in the adjacent room so as not to intrude, but that does not give you permission to hassle or pressure her into attending your school. Give me a moment please." Mrs. Pierson had lifted her gaze and stood, breezing past Minerva with a posture that would indicate a younger age than what she looked. Not feeling the pressure of her scrutiny any longer, Minerva sagged in her chair a slight bit. Not enough to be slouching, but enough that a close observer could notice a slight curvature in her shoulders.

After a few minutes, Mrs. Pierson walked back in with a young girl at her heels. It was of course the girl she'd picked out from earlier. Minerva stood in respect and greeting, as Mrs. Pierson introduced the two of them. "Coline, this is Mrs. McGonagall, from Hogwarts school in Scotland. She has been looking for an opportunity to speak with you about attending her school. Mrs. McGonagall, this is Coline. Please remember what we spoke of earlier, and Coline, remember your manners." Coline looked up at Mrs. Pierson and nodded. "Yes, Mrs. Pierson." She said in a voice much like a student's. She then turned to Minerva and gave a short curtsy. "Greetings, Mrs. McGonagall, it is a pleasure to meet your acquaintance."

As Coline rose from her curtsy, she took a seat opposite Minerva, crossing her legs at an angle and dropping her knees together at the side, the perfect picture of an eleven year old girl doing her best to impress an important guest. "A pleasure to meet yours as well, Mist-Miss Potter. I see your guardian has taught you the etiquette required of a young woman. I am impressed." She sat back down, uncomfortable about this meeting and wishing she could have bribed Pomona into doing it instead. "Now, Coline. I have some very big things I need to speak with you about, and would like you to keep an open mind before passing judgment. Also, please keep all questions to the end, as I am sure you will have quite a few after I am finished." Coline nodded graciously.

"Coline, you have been born with a wonderful gift, one that needs to be nurtured and guided so as to not become a hindrance or burden. " Coline, to Minerva's surprise, nodded without any outward expression except the gaze she'd come to associate with Mrs. Pierson. It unnerved Minerva because, though the look was not as powerful as her caretaker's was, it made Harry look older than he was, and reminded her that she should tread softly in her explanation. "I was born with this same talent, and so were all of the people who will be attending Hogwarts. The Professors there, including me, teach you how to harness your gift, how to make it work for you, instead of against you. Tell me Coline, have you ever noticed odd things happen around you in times of great emotions?" Coline nodded once, her lips pressing together, uncertain as to whether she should share her secret or not to this woman.

Minerva felt relief flow through her at the nod. At least she would not sound like a total loon to the girl now. "Coline, those incidents are what is known as accidental magic. It means that your magic, the gift you were born with, is attempting to follow your subconscious will, and it causes those things to happen. It is perfectly natural in magical children to experience four to five of these before they go to school." This would be the hardest part for Minerva, because she did not know the character of Harry Potter, so she did not know how he would react to it.

Minerva reached into her purse and pulled out a letter made of parchment encased by an envelope made of the same material. "Coline Potter, I would like to formally offer you your acceptance letter to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Enclosed is a written account of the same, along with a list of school supplies needed for your first year. Hogwarts is a boarding school, so please, if you accept your invitation, pack accordingly. Take your time with the letter, and should you wish, I will take you presently to acquire your school supplies." Minerva waited, scarcely breathing as Coline accepted the letter and began to read.

Once finished, Coline raised her head and with as neutral an expression as she could manage, said "I will accept this invitation conditionally. I'll need to be shown proof of your 'magic', and upon receiving that proof, this supply trip you've seemingly arranged for me beforehand will wither cement my first impression of you, or…. It won't." Coline was, of course, bluffing. She knew in her heart that everything this woman had said was true, but she wanted to make this woman squirm for thinking Coline would just go along with whatever opportunity was put in front of her. Plus there was Woldingham to think about. So, her terms set in place, she tried her best to imitate Mrs. Pierson's gaze, and waited for Mrs. McGonagall to acquiesce.

Minerva sweated a little bit. She was not prepared for James Potter's son to be such a prudent person. The terms were all reasonable, and even should have been expected from an intelligent muggleborn prospect, but from the Wizarding world's savior? No, Minerva was dumbfounded, but she did not allow that to sully her first impression. At least, not until Harry's eyes narrowed and faded into a peculiar shade of jade that reminded her so much of Lily that she was momentarily caught up as she had been with Mrs. Pierson.

"O… of course Miss Potter. Those requests are very reasonable, and I shall be happy to oblige." Minerva said, shaking herself out of the funk she had been in. As she reached back into her purse for her wand and brought it out, Harry's eyes immediately focused on it, taking in every minute detail. "This is a wand, Miss Potter, and through it, young wizards and witches like yourself learn how to channel your magic into doing your will. I will demonstrate now if you do not mind."

As Minerva raised her wand, Coline said "Stop. I don't trust that you may have set up some kind of illusion while Mrs. Pierson was out of the room, so I'll suggest something, and if it's within your power to do so, then we'll try that. Now, I'd like to see this ball disappear." Coline pulled a small rubber ball out of her pocket, grinning internally as Mrs. McGonagall's eye twitched at being ordered about by an eleven year old. Then, of course with a flick of the wand, the ball in her hand was no longer there. "Alright, then. Change this desk into a giant toad. "

Minerva was slightly irritated. It was like he was mocking her, asking her to do stereotypical things that muggles thought witches did. But nevertheless, Minerva tapped her wand on the desk, and it was transfigured into a large toad, which croaked once, then was summarily reverted to its original form. Harry's eyes, Minerva noticed smugly, were wide as they could go. She cleared her throat, and Harry turned his head to her. "Is that enough demonstration? I believe Flourish and Blott's closes in….. two hours." Minerva said, looking at her watch.

Coline nodded, and stood, calling for Mrs. Pierson. The woman walked in, all smiles, and asked how the meeting had gone. Coline gave a heavily edited version of it, not lying, but omitting the absolute truth. She received permission from Mrs. Pierson to go supplies shopping with Minerva, and they took a taxi cab from the garish Orphanarium, Minerva thinking that Albus would certainly be fond of the place.

Their trip took them twenty minutes exactly, and Coline was thrumming with excitement. If what she'd been doing with her magic was what happened subconsciously, then what might she be able to do with enough training? Anything, she'd bet. She could make a career out of it, or better yet, help out the Orphanarium. And all it would take was faith in this woman next to her. Coline was dressed in her usual pale green shirt and dark blue jeans, her usual silk magenta headband keeping her long, curly hair separated from the front, which was spiky and tousled, covering her scar from view.

She was ashamed of that scar. Mrs. Pierson had said she had it when she was just a baby, but she hated it. It reminded her of the before days; the days before she became a girl. She hated it and wanted it to go away. But no, it was a part of her, and always would be. Coline was startled out of her reverie as Mrs. McGonagall tapped her shoulder and said that they had arrived. Coline stepped out of the taxi only to be confronted by a few clothing shops and a dingy pub called the Leaky Cauldron. Apprehensively, she looked at Mrs. McGonagall and pointed at the pub, the question in her eyes.

"Ah, yes. It doesn't look like much, but the Cauldron really is a fine establishment, and also the way-port for our destination." Minerva gave the old pub a fond pat on the wall before ducking inside. As Coline looked around outside, she noticed that absolutely nobody was paying attention to the pub, passing it by as if it weren't even there. Once she stepped inside thought, she felt as if she'd been transported into the past. Candelabra's were resting on rough wooden tables, and iron chandeliers hosting more candles hung from the ceiling, held up by iron chains. The whole building had the feel of a 1800's tavern. Coline peeked back outside, then back inside, confused as to the differences between the two sights before her.

"Magical England is not as advanced as the muggle world, Coline." Minerva said patiently, used to this from muggleborns. "Electronics and modern, non-magical conveniences tend to work…. improperly in the magical world." She finished, remembering an odd situation last year where one of the muggleborns had tried using a muggle pen and the non-magical materials had reacted violently to the ambient magic in Hogwarts.

"Ah. That's why is seems to be in the dark ages here." Coline muttered to herself, following Minerva out the back of the Leaky Cauldron into an alleyway. Minerva pulled her wand out and tapped a brick three times, which caused the wall to transform itself into an archway where Coline saw myriad people wandering about in the strangest clothing she'd ever seen. Minerva waved her wand over her clothing, turning them back into robes, before saying "Welcome to Diagon Alley, Miss Potter." with a smug grin at the wonder in the eleven year old boy's eyes.

**AN: **_Ah. Another chapter finished. I had trouble with this chapter, but I'm happy it got done. I hope you all enjoy it. As always, please review and give any criticism you might have. It will be eagerly accepted._


	5. The Butterfly Effect

**AN:** _Ah, it's time for the next installment of my story, dear readers, and I must say, I didn't expect so many people to want to read this. I was kind of hoping just to get the plot bunny out of my head, but it's evolving into something I never expected it to. One of my reviewers has asked that I extend the length of my chapters, so I'm going to try my best. That being said, I believe it's time to get this show on the road._

**Chapter 5: The Butterfly Effect**

Coline Gael Potter was stunned at the sight before her. It wasn't the people; no, she lived in the heart of London, and she'd run errands for Mrs. Pierson before. It was as if Coline had been transported directly into a medieval faire. The walk-way was made of cobblestone, and the buildings of roughhewn stone or wood seemed almost frail compared to the modern glass and metal high-rises and concrete or polished granite banks. And the items that were being advertised! Dragon livers, cauldrons, robes, and books; it looked so… ancient. But Coline only had moments to take in the sights before being ushered out of the newly made doorway by Mrs. McGonagall.

"Come, miss Potter, we should not dally. Our first stop is going to be Gringotts bank." And with that, professor McGonagall was off, briefly looking back to see if Coline was following. Coline was in fact right on Minerva's heel, nervous about being lost in such a grand location. As they wound their way through the market, Coline's neck was becoming tired from looking about so much. She could have sworn that she'd seen some kind of a broom being sold, but a shopper passed in front of her, and she couldn't see the shop anymore. They finally made their way to a giant marble building that reminded her of the London banks crossed with a courthouse.

The building must have been four stories tall, glaringly white, and had what looked like solid bronze doors that were open and guarded by two small figures. As they approached, she could tell that they were distinctly not normal. Humanoid, but the size of a stunted child, with dark skin, slanted eyes, and long pointed ears and noses, the two of them struck odd, but not overly intimidating figures. Mrs. McGonagall stopped Coline within a stone's throw of the building, and looked at her with an even more stern expression than she normally wore.

"Miss Potter," she began, "I should warn you to be on your best behavior, because those figures you see at the bank are not human." Minerva stopped and took in Coline's expression, which was one of confusion. "The two in front of the bank are called goblins, miss Potter, and goblins are a proud and fierce race. They take insult easily, and the hold grudges for generations. You will learn more about them in your History of Magic class at Hogwarts. Suffice it to say for now, that goblins and wizard-kind have not seen eye-to-eye on many subjects, and relations with them at the current moment are… complicated. So be careful, should you engage in a conversation with one."

Coline was confused, but accepted the new information with as much grace as an eleven year old could when told of a non-human race, which is to say none at all. "Really? Brillieant! Do they have a different language that they speak? I'm fluent in French, as well as Italian, you know - or as fluent as I can be in primary school. " Coline nattered on as she and Minerva resumed their walk toward the bank. Minerva was slightly nervous, as she'd never really gotten on with the goblins of Gringotts.

As they reached the door, one of the goblins stopped them and holding a piece of parchment with a quill in its hands, stated in a no-nonsense voice "Names and purpose of your visit." Minerva stood straight as a meter stick and said clearly "Madame Professor Minerva McGonagall and Harry James Potter, here to extract funds for his first year of Hogwarts." Coline glared at Mrs. McGonagall and cleared her throat loudly before the goblin had a chance to write her name down. "Excuse me, Mr. Goblin. Mrs. McGonagall has made an error. My legal name is Coline Gael Potter, and I am a she, not a he. "

The goblin stared at Coline with black eyes for a long moment, and bared his teeth in a grim parody of a smile, and said in a smoothly "Of course, miss Potter, it is not the policy of Gringotts to challenge the lives of her clients. I will be sure to forward your statement to all applicable parties." Minerva, on the other hand, had her fingers resting on the bridge of her nose, attempting to stop herself from slapping the impertinent child in front of her. She'd had her authority questioned in front of the Gringotts goblins by a child. Right after she'd told her to be on her best behavior, as well. Minerva determined that she would be having words with Dumbledore soon.

The goblin spoke once more with a gleam in his eye. "Madam Professor McGonagall and miss Coline Potter, please follow me, so that your business might be concluded to our mutual satisfaction." As the three walked into the bronze doors, they were greeted by a second pair of doors, also solid bronze, but closed this time. Coline took note of a warning on the doors about attempting thievery, and determined that she would not ever want to make the goblins angry with her. As the secondary bronze doors were opened, she was treated to the sight of an extravagant plaza, made of marble, gold, silver, and bronze. Everywhere there were goblins and wizards conducting their business, but there seemed to be an air of tension in the room, as if there were little trust between anybody present.

They made their way to a back room, but Minerva was stopped at the door. "Changes of identity and access to vaults are to be conducted only by relevant parties and their legal guardians. As miss Potter is here of her own accord with yourself as her escort, you are to wait at the door until her business is concluded. If you have and questions regarding Gringotts policy, please consult our on-duty client relations representative." And with that, the door to the meeting room was closed soundly in Minerva's face.

Coline was asked by the goblin to sit in the comfortable chair opposite a large and intimidating desk. As the goblin sat behind said desk, he introduced himself. "Miss Potter, my name is Clondrek, and I am the head of Gringotts security. Miss Potter, I feel that before we begin our business today, there are a few questions I need to ask." Coline nodded, confused as to why she was by herself. "You have been raised by non-magical humans, is that a fair assumption?" Coline nodded again. "Do you now go, or have you ever gone by the name of Harry James Potter?" Coline nodded again, voicing her thoughts. "Yes, Mr. Clondrek, that was my name up until two years ago, but it was changed to Coline Gael Potter. I was told by my guardian that it was legal, signed off by the court systems of England, and that all parties that needed to be notified had been. "

"Miss Potter, I told you earlier that it is not the policy of Gringotts to get involved in our clients' personal matters, and this is true, at least where those matters do not regard their Gringotts held funds. As you were raised by non-magical persons, you would not know that Gringotts bank has many liaisons and banking fronts in the non-magical world, so that we might cater to the ever growing market of muggleborn children and the wizards who have sought employment in non-magical workplaces. " Clondrek stopped his speech to pour himself a cup of viscous green liquid, which he sipped with seeming satisfaction.

"That being said, your situation today is somewhat odd miss Potter. You see, we have had parents and guardians attempting to impersonate the boy-who-lived on many occasions - once or twice per year, in fact. It's the reason for our increase in security here. There is of course, no precedent for this." As he said this last part, Clondrek waved his hand in Coline's general direction. "You are obviously a female human, yet Madame Professor McGonagall, an esteemed figure in your community has claimed you to be Harry Potter. Immediately afterward, you deny this claim, and claim to be Coline Gael Potter, and indeed, not male at all, but female. And then here, in this very room, you claim you were once known as Harry Potter, but had your name changed. It is a plausible story, and I am inclined to believe you, but Gringotts has not made her fortune based off of inclination and instinct. Your thoughts, miss Potter?"

Coline was caught off guard by the roundabout way the goblin was accusing her of identity-theft. Then, after a moment had passed, her surprise was replaced by irritation. Always polite, but never patient, Coline had always prided herself in two things: her intelligence, and her honesty. She had only ever been called a liar once, and the earful she had given that person was enough that everyone at her primary school had been loath to even insinuate that Coline might be lying. So as she geared up to verbally box this goblin's pointy ears, her vibrant green eyes turned dark.

"Mr. Clondrek, I've always prided myself on my honesty. When you grow up in an orphanage, your word is really the only thing you have to define you. And in keeping with this, I will be blunt. I do not appreciate what you are insinuating, and I would ask you either let Mrs. McGonagall do whatever it is she came here to do for me, or point me to the Wizarding version of a solicitor so I and my guardian may prove I am who I say I am." Coline locked eyes with the goblin, her irritation slowly turning to anger at the goblin. "As a child, I have been underestimated many times, mostly by the younger volunteers at the orphanage, but never have I been insulted. Please make your decision so I might make mine."

Clondrek, the head of Gringotts security, met the young girl's gaze with his own black eyes, then his chest seemed to convulse, and a gravelly laugh made its way out of his mouth. It sounded more like a bark of aggression than a humorous sound. "Miss Potter, I assure you that there will be no need for solicitors. We at Gringotts have a definitive way of proving identity, and it will require no more than a moment of your time." Clondrek pushed a piece of parchment and a deeply scarlet quill toward Coline, and she looked at them apprehensively.

"This, miss Potter, is a very special parchment. It gives a complete genealogy of a magical being's ancestry, going back one-hundred magical births and their families on each side. It looks plain, but in reality, this paper will become a tapestry should your family indicate such. All you have to do is sign your name at the bottom. Do not worry about ink, the quill will take care of it for you."

Coline had no reason not to trust the goblin, and figuring that magic was a wholly different thing from science anyway, so she picked up the quill and signed her legal name on the bottom. _Coline Gael Potter._ She felt a strange tingle on the back of her hand, but disregarded it as being some weird magic thing. And then, to her amazed eyes, the parchment flew off the table and attached itself to the largest wall in the room, growing to fit the entire wall. At the top it read _**Genealogy of the Noble House of Potter.**_

Coline could see her name at the bottom left-hand side of the tapestry: _**Coline Gael Potter, previously known as Harry James Potter**_ , but her mother's name – Lilly Potter, was the only one on that side of the family. Her mother must not have had any magical relatives then. Her father's side though, was filled with interconnecting lines, indicating names and relations to her. Coline was curious as to the tapestry, but then five names turned red and changed into indecipherable chicken-scratch. She assumed it was written in whatever language the goblins spoke. But they seemed important.

"What-" Coline began, but Clondrek interrupted her. "Miss Potter, I apologize for my later insinuations, it seems that your family has much more in this bank than we thought they did. Let me extend my gratitude for your cooperation. I will need to contact one of the senior account managers to conclude your business." With that, he scribbled onto a parchment and folded it into the rough form of a bird. With a shooing motion, the paper bird took flight through a small hole in the door that Coline had not noticed before.

After a half-hour of silence between herself and Clondrek, a knock was heard at the door, and another goblin, this time one with glasses and a thick sheaf of papers, walked into the room. "Clondrek," the new goblin nodded toward the room's door "I'll take this from here. Please see to Madame Professor McGonagall. She seems to be making quite the scene outside the room." Clondrek left the room quickly, but not before leaning toward the new goblin and pointing at Coline. He stated something in the guttural language of the goblins then left, leaving the new goblin baring his sharp teeth at Coline in that goblin parody of a smile.

Once the door had closed again, the new goblin introduced himself. "Miss Potter, my name is Glemfrung, Senior Account Manager in chief. You should consider yourself lucky to have met me, I am a very busy goblin. Now that we have verified that you are indeed the last in the Potter line, there is the small matter of this stack of paperwork to take care of. All it will require from you is your signature on a few pieces of paper, signed both as Harry Potter and as Coline Potter, stating that all accounts that you are eligible to inherit when you reach your majority are to be merged into vault 359, one of our largest and most protected vaults. The transfer of the funds will be done pro-bono, which is to say without charge, as a courtesy for the meeting you had to have with Clondrek. There is only the matter of the annual interest rate, and the annual flat rate charge for the new vault."

Coline was a smart girl, but she was glad for the slow way the senior account manager spoke. It allowed for his words to sink in and arrange themselves properly in her head. She did have one question though. "So, the money that my biological family left me is all going to be merged into one giant account. That will certainly be convenient. Is there a way to have maybe ten percent of that to be transferred through one of your liaisons to Mrs. Pierson's Orphanarium?" Glemfrung chuckled as if he knew a secret that Coline did not. "Of course miss Potter, Gringotts would be happy to do that for you. Of course there would be a flat fee of two-hundred and fifty galleons, but believe me when I say that will make not even a smudge to the size of the capital you've inherited. Now, I would like to discuss your accounts so you might understand your situation within the Wizarding world." Coline nodded for Glemfrung to continue.

"Thank you, miss Potter. The total accounts we will be merging is six. That means that six families have died out, and you are the most direct link that Gringotts could find to inherit the liquid and solid capital of. The names of the families are not important currently, but they will of course be separated in your vault by name so you may search through the familial heirlooms and such at your leisure once you have reached your majority. I should note that your trust account will be left as is, though the percentage of the Potter vault dedicated to your schooling will seem to be quite enough. Please sign here as Harry Potter to signify you have been told of the process to be taken regarding your holdings." Coline nodded her head and signed.

"The vault that has been chosen has an annual fee of 0.002%. This is for the maintenance of the wards around the vault, and takes into consideration the amount of solid capital you will have residing in Gringotts. Please sign here as Harry Potter, to signify that you have been told of the annual fee of the vault. " Coline nodded and signed again. "Now, the interest that your holdings produce is 1% annually. This takes into account the vault itself and the businesses that the collective families have majority interest in. I will not bore your young mind with mathematics and figures, but suffice to say that unless it is all given away, you have enough to live the most monetarily wasteful life possible, and still have enough left over from the interest to do it again eight more times before you even touch the present funds. Please sign here as Harry Potter, to signify that you have been told of your solid capital and appraised of your current fortune. " Coline was stunned at this newest information, and had to be told twice more to sign before she snapped out of it. "So, the ten percent that Mrs. Pierson will be getting?" She asked.

Chuckling, Glemfrung said "The ten percent will be a far better gift than you could possibly imagine, miss Potter. That will be all the money your orphanage will ever need. Now, on to your trust vault. The vault left to you by your parents contains 1% of the total Potter holdings, represented purely from Wizarding currency." Coline looked confused by this, so Glemfrung explained the currency of the Wizarding world.

"As I was saying, this 1% is refilled quarterly, so you should not want for money. Gringotts will be providing you a magical clutch purse that has been keyed to your magical signature, so that you might conduct your everyday business without returning to Gringotts. This purse will contain a magically produced card made of your muggle plastic. I believe that non-magicals call it a credit card. It is able to be used in the magical and non-magical worlds, and has been proven effective by human employees of Gringotts. You hand a shop-keeper the card, and should they be non-magical, a low-powered Confundus charm will fool them into thinking you've entered your pass-code, when in fact, the funds will have been pulled from your trust vault. Magical shopkeepers will know what it is and how to process the transactions. Sign here as Harry Potter, signifying you have been told of the status of your trust vault, and that as a wealthy client, you have been offered a magical accessory to make your everyday business easier." Coline signed, not trusting herself to say a word.

"That concludes our business concerning the affairs of your vaults, miss Potter, here is your clutch purse and card." A purse was produced by the goblin, black and made of some kind of reptilian skin. "The clutch itself is made from the skin of a Norwegian Ridgeback dragon. A very hard substance to come by, let me assure you. It has been spelled to automatically summon itself to your magical signature should it be unwillingly taken from you." Coline accepted the purse, checking inside. There was indeed a sleek black plastic credit card inside. "I would now ask you to sign this bit of parchment as Coline Potter, to ensure that your change of name is legally accepted at all Gringotts branches."

After signing a few more papers, Coline was free to go. She was escorted out of the room by Glemfrung, to where a severely irritated Professor McGonagall was waiting for her. "Sorry, Mrs. McGonagall, there were some papers and things the goblins wanted me to sign to verify my legal name change. They've given me a nice card to conduct our business today. I hope that is okay, ma'am." Minerva narrowed her eyes at the child in front of her, unsure of whether she should just call off the entire trip and leave it to the Headmaster. The hopeful look on the young child's face though made it so she couldn't' just take Coline home.

"Come, miss Potter, let us finish your supply shopping. Apparently you have more funds than I thought were available to you, so we can get you a nicer truck, and perhaps a pet. Do you like animals, miss Potter?" Coline's eyes lit up and she grinned as she kept on Minerva's heels. "Yes, miss McGonagall, I do, but do you think Mrs. Pierson would let me have a pet? That would be nice. And a trunk? That sounds nice. I would be able to hide my things from the other children. Speaking of hiding things, can Mrs. Pierson know about all of this? She is my guardian after all. " Minerva sighed. "She will have to know, miss Potter, but we will break it to her nicely. Now, let's get your trunk first, so we can put all your other supplies into it."

The duo walked down Diagon Alley quickly, not wanting to delay after the time it took to get finished at Gringotts. They made their way to the trunk shop and walked in without delay, whereupon they were immediately greeted by the proprietor of the store. "Welcome to Greant's Trunks and Luggage, how might I serve you ladies today?" He asked, a congenial smile on his face. "We will need a three compartment trunk with basic burglary wards, it should have a bookshelf compartment, armoire, and an 8x10x4 empty compartment for miscellaneous supplies. Coline, what metal would you like the trunk to be accented with?" Minerva stated, all business. "Umm…. Brass, sir?" she stated uncomfortably. Mr. Greant smiled sweetly. "Of course, my dear. We have a few of those readily available for first years at Hogwarts. Would you like a dark or light wood? And what initials would you like to be on the trunk?" "Umm…. Dark wood, sir, and my initials are C.G.P." She responded, happy that this man was so nice. Mr. Greant smiled and said "That will be 17 galleons, would you like to pay now, or get the trunk squared away first?"

"I'll pay now, sir." She said quickly, pulling out her clutch purse and handing him her card. His smile faltered slightly as he saw the card, but it was back in full force a moment later. "Of course dear, let me just get that taken care of." Mr. Greant waved his wand over the black card and it glowed a moment, before flashing white and settling back down again. "Your payment has been taken care of, my dear, let's go get you your trunk." The trunk was squared away in short order, and though she didn't see how it could hold all of the things Mrs. McGonagall had described, it was nice, and the burglary ward had been described to her as a small hole in the top. The first wand inserted and twisted to the right would activate and key the ward to that wand, and should another person attempt to open the trunk with their wand, they would receive a Full-Body Bind before they could blink.

The next hour was spend grabbing miscellaneous items on her list, and looking at it afterward, it seemed like they only had her school uniform and wand left to get, plus a trip to the magical menagerie if she wanted to get a pet. "Mrs. McGonagall? What is the dress code for regular school clothing? Not the robes, of course, but the clothing worn underneath?" Coline asked after not finding the information on the checklist. Minerva answered the question by rote, saying "Well, the clothing required for our male students is slacks, a white button down shirt, and a vest. When you get to Hogwarts and have been sorted, a tie and patch for your vest will be provided in your House colors." Coline thought about this, and it sounded like what a secondary school uniform might be.

"But what about the girls, Mrs. McGonagall? Do they wear the knee-length skirts?" Minerva's face whitened a little bit, remembering that they would have to buy the female attire for her. Sighing, she answered the question. "The young ladies that attend Hogwarts wear a knee-length skirt, knee-high stockings, a white button-down shirt, and a jumper. The tie and patch will be provided, as it is with the boys. Though we may have issues with your… accommodations." Coline tilted her head in confusion, her face scrunched up. "What do you mean, Mrs. McGonagall?"

Sighing again, Minerva explained slowly. "There are certain….. safeguards on the women's dorms at Hogwarts that do not allow those of the male gender past. Because you are… well… you still have your….." Minerva vaguely motioned toward Coline's crotch with her hand. Coline looked down and understanding dawned in her mind. "Ohhh. I get it. Because I have a penis, those safeguards won't let me past." Minerva nodded nervously, not comfortable with the conversation. Coline would have to speak with the headmaster of the school. "Well then Mrs. McGonagall, I am not sure Hogwarts might be the best fit for me if I can't live my life how I need to while attending. Do you know if there are any other magical academies in Europe I might look into?" Minerva's heart leapt up into her throat as she thought _he would consider going to a different school just because his little dress-up time would be interrupted? What tosh. I'm putting an end to this. He cannot function in the Wizarding world like this._

Minerva took on the posture she used in Hogwarts to discipline her students, and said firmly "_Mister_ Potter. I think it is time we did away with pretenses and childish fantasies. You are a very young man and cannot possibly know what you want. I have been indulgent until now, but this talk of other schools is the last straw. You will come to Hogwarts, the alma mater of your parents, and you will do it as the young man you are, not a spoilt little girl like you wish you were." The innocent smile that Coline had been sporting as she asked her question melted away as if it were never there. Her eyes were flinty, and her face held no expression, an unnerving thing to see from an eleven year old.

"No, Miss McGonagall, I think I will not be. Should you return to Mrs. Pierson's Orphanarium, expect the non-magical authorities to be called and files charged. I appreciate your help with the shopping that has been done so far, but I think I will take care of the rest of it myself." Coline hefted her trunk that was surprisingly light, and turned her heel on Madame Professor McGonagall, leaving the elderly woman dumbfounded at how much the young person in front of her had looked like Lilly Potter in a fury.

**AN: **_WHEW! My god, this chapter was so hard. I made it longer as requested, but I'm sure most of you will have been bored to tears with the Gringotts scene. I hope you all appreciated the details though, and that will be all until the next time I write. Please be kind with your reviews._


	6. The Fallout

**AN: **_I apologize for the delay in this chapter, but I've had some life issues that needed to be taken care of. I would also like to address one of the concerns that was voiced by a reviewer, namely this one: this was by Jakkatk –"_Wow, love the little battle of wills there but the magical world needs to have a more opened mind. Thanks." _I should point out that the magical world is living circa 1800's. In that time, homosexuality – or any alternate sexuality for that matter – was severely frowned upon in public. While polygamy and alternate lifestyles may have been practiced in secret, public displays of abnormal personal behavior were looked upon with disdain and discrimination. So that is how I'll be portraying most of magical Europe, with a few exceptions. Thank you for your time, and I hope you enjoy this new chapter._

_-Vincent Argeneau_

**Chapter 6: The Fallout**

Coline made her way through the Leaky Cauldron like a sudden hurricane makes its way through an Oceanside town. The people left in her wake were likewise left confused and shaken. Coline paid them no mind, and walked out of the building with as much grace as she could muster, though there was a noticeable flounce in her step that any parent would be able to notice. Once outside, she hailed a taxicab and directed him to Mrs. Pierson's Orphanarium, all the while glaring at the back of the seat in front of her. Why Mrs. McGonagall would say those things was beyond her. After all, hadn't she asked reasonable questions? She had been polite the entire time, and had given no reason for the provocation. Mrs. McGonagall's behavior made it clear that she was not going to be welcomed into the English magical community, and Coline would not go anywhere she was not welcome.

Once she'd returned to the Orphanarium and paid the cabbie, Coline dragged her trunk inside and slammed the door to her room, much to the concern of Mrs. Pierson and her friends. She then pulled out a biro and fountain pen, and hastily sketched down _**Plans for getting into magical school other than Hogwarts:**_. _Step 1, ask Mrs. Pierson if I can get an owl or other post carrying animal. Step 2, get in contact with the Gringotts goblins. Step 3, ask about alternative schools that can be applied to normally, and scholarships for said schools. _Dotting the last point with satisfaction, Coline folded up the short list of things to do in her pocket and stomped out determinedly to go see Mrs. Pierson.

Coline wound up meeting Mrs. Pierson a little earlier than she'd planned, for she was waiting outside to wait for Coline with a steely look in her eyes that would cause any child to break into a sweat. "Coline my sweet, why don't we go into my office to discuss whatever happened?" Coline nodded with a small wince, knowing she would be unable to hide anything from the woman in front of her. Coline followed Mrs. Pierson into her office and heard the small '_snick_' of the door latching shut as she sat down. As she came back into view, Mrs. Pierson said "Tell me what happened, Coline. That is not a request." Coline flinched, then sighed, and then began to recant her story and its implications to the trusted adult in front of her.

In another part of the UK, Madame Professor Minerva McGonagall was shakily stepping out of the fireplace in her quarters of Hogwarts. If anyone had asked her how she was doing right now, she would have told them of meeting the ghost of Lily Potter, and clammed up afterward. Her face was pale and drawn as if she had a headache, though in reality it was from the painful memories she was reliving. She was sure her outburst had caused Harry Potter to consider not coming to Hogwarts, and in all reality, he was perfectly within his rights not to attend. Minerva's face settled into a grimace at the thought of the boy's reasoning for walking off. _Coline Gael Potter indeed, _thought the aged transfiguration teacher, _that boy needs to stop with the nonsense and learn his place in society. With that kind of attitude, he'll be eaten alive by the politicians and the newspapers. And he was talking about attending another school, as well? That will need to be brought up to Albus. He will sort out this mess. _Her plan in mind, Minerva moved to her fireplace and threw in a pinch of green powder before stepping through.

Coline had just finished with her explanation to Mrs. Pierson, and said woman was reeling from the implications of both a massive funding from her favorite child and of that child being magical. Annabel Pierson was usually a very unflappable woman, and she'd said with confidence on many occasions that there was nothing her children could do that would take her by surprise, as she'd seen it all many times before. This situation though, was beyond her. She agreed with Coline that the goblins would need to be contacted, and wholly supported the idea of a personal owl, along with a couple for the Orphanarium. They would call it an exercise in responsibility for the children.

After shaking herself back to rationality, Mrs. Pierson told Coline to get her purse and to wait for her at the Orphanarium's van, where she would take Coline directly back to Diagon Alley to see this world for herself. She would need to know as much as she could, as she might get another child that was magical in the future. Thirty minutes later, Mrs. Pierson and Coline were on the motorway toward 48 Charing Cross road, intent on getting Coline her answers.

Once they had parked, Coline took Mrs. Pierson by the hand led her toward the building that the elderly woman could apparently not see. Once they'd gotten to the doorway, Mrs. Pierson exclaimed "Oh, my! How could anybody hide a building like this? Why, I'd have not noticed it if I were to brush my nose against the window!" Coline giggled lightly. "That's what I was afraid of, Mrs. Pierson, that is why I took your hand and led you here. Let's get this over with, please." Coline opened the door of the venerable establishment and walked up to the bar.

The old man there was polishing a glass with a questionably clean rag, probably spreading more grime than taking it off. When he noticed the two people in front of him, he said "Good afternoon, m'ladies, how can old Tom help you today?" Mrs. Pierson had a small smile on her face from the compliment, but said "Flatterer. Neither I, nor my ward are able to get into the shopping district beyond here. Would you be able to do us this service so we can get Coline here ready for school?" Tom smiled widely, "Of course, ma'am. good old Tom does this all the time for the muggleborn kiddies. Let me show you out back, hmm?" Tom ushered them to the back of the pub, grinning at the small blush he'd been able to put on Mrs. Pierson's face.

After another demonstration of how to open the secret way into Diagon Alley, Mrs. Pierson was gaping at the sights and conversations. Coline ushered Mrs. Pierson straight to Gringotts, where they were immediately set upon by a troupe of scholarly looking Goblins. "Miss Potter, welcome back to Gringotts. Also, Gringotts offers its welcome to the esteemed guest of Miss Potter. What brings you in today, Miss Potter?" Coline sighed, and asked if they could speak to someone about alternative schooling and scholarships, and whether Mrs. Pierson could talk to a goblin about getting some owls set up for the Orphanarium. The two were led away from each other by two goblins apiece, and as the door latched behind her, a small voice in the back of her head said _Take that Mrs. McGonagall, I'll find my way around this world in my own way._

Back at Hogwarts, either a purple and shite whirlwind was making its way through Albus Dumbledore's office, or the Headmaster was packing his small travelling bag and speaking to a frazzled transfiguration teacher. "As always Minerva, you are in charge while I am away, please ensure that Peeves does not get into too much mischief. Call on the Bloody Baron if you must. If I know my defiant teenagers, I think our dear Miss Potter might be heading back to Diagon Alley to speak to the goblins about attending another magical school. It is what I would do in this situation. Ta-ta, Minerva." And with a flash of green light, Albus Dumbledore was gone, leaving his deputy headmistress blinking owlishly and wondering what had just happened.

**AN: **_I apologize again for how long it took to get this chapter up. I also apologize for is lacking any sort of action. This was kind of a character development chapter for Minerva and Albus, my muses were adamant that I do some of that before moving on with my subplot. So here you are. As always, please review with your criticism and praise, and be kind to your author, I'm fragile._

_Signed,_

_-Vincent Argeneau_


	7. Consequential Negotiations

**AN: **_Hello, my dear readers. It is that time again, for you to become enraptured with my own twisted version of Miss Rowling's story. I should note that this chapter is going to be very….. strange. I do not know how the process for school representative interviews works in the UK, so please bear with the fact that I'll be using a very bastardized version of the US's interview process. Please be kind as you read and review. And as always, on with the show._

**Chapter 7: Consequential Negotiations**

Albus Dumbledore made his way through Diagon Alley with a bright smile on his face, making those who saw him confused when put against the vaunted image they had of him from the war. Internally though, the Headmaster of Hogwarts was concerned and slightly wary. It seemed as though the young Miss Potter had gotten more from her mother than her eyes. Yes, she seemed to have channeled the fury of Lily Potter when looked down upon by Minerva, and from what he remembered, Lily was a woman you did not want to have at the opposite side of an argument. So, as he walked down the Alley, carefully regulating his pace so as not to seem rushed, he kept his eyes out for the young Potter scion.

Coline was soundly bundled into a comfortable wing-backed chair, with a steaming cup of strong black tea in her hands before she could rightly blink away her surprise. A couple of the Gringotts goblins had separated her from Mrs. Pierson and brought her into the medium-sized meeting room that she was in. As Coline took a small sip of the tea in her hands, she took a cursory look around the room. It was roughly the size of the Orphanarium's kitchen, but beige and very neutral in its decorations. Although it looked to be a very boring room so as to not distract from the business at hand, the goblins bustling about made for a hectic – and slightly humorous – scene.

One of the goblins finally stood in front of Coline with a few pamphlets and flyers. Laying them out on table in alphabetical order, he motioned toward them while nodding to her. "Miss Potter, these are some pamphlets for you to peruse while we set up some interviews with the Heads of some European magical schools for you. Please believe that no expense will be spared toward your comfort and the mediation of these meetings for you." Coline blinked owlishly at what the goblin was saying. "Interviews?" She asked quietly, while staring at the pamphlet for Durmstrang Institute of Magic, that – while Unplottable – was located somewhere in between Norway and Sweden. A picture of a majestic castle was tastefully inserted on the bottom of the pamphlet with the school Coat of Arms prominent in the night sky above, resplendent with an aurora borealis spelled to glimmer and gleam as if real.

The goblin in front of her caught Coline's attention again as he replied "Yes, interviews. Magical means of travel and message carrying almost guarantee that the Heads of these schools can be here within the next three hours, keeping in mind of course time zones and such. When you asked about other magical schools than Hogwarts, Gringotts took the liberty of making contact with the most exceptional schools of magic in Europe. After they have finished their business, the Heads and representatives of Durmstrang Institute of Magic, Beauxbâtons Académie de Magie, Toro Orgulloso Academia del Encanto, and Maximi Scholam Praecantatio will be here to speak to you and to your guardian about their schools, the tenets behind them, and the reason their school is better than the others. Of course, to keep with propriety, Albus Dumbledore of Hogwarts must also be allowed his time. I trust this meets to your satisfaction, Miss Potter?"

Coline was a little bit overwhelmed, as she had mostly just come to get information on the other schools and finish her school shopping. Coline had really wanted to get her wand today, but it seemed like another day of meetings and headaches would be ahead of her. "Yes, sir, that seems like it would be best for this kind of situation. I assume you'll be here to mediate like Mrs. Pierson was when we were host to the non-magical boarding schools?" The goblin nodded, adding "Of course I will, also, there will be a further mediated meeting between your guardian and each school Head before they even come to you, that way they have their chance to plead their case to her before they come to you." Coline nodded and waited patiently.

****3 hours later****

Albus Dumbledore was now sweating slightly, surrounded by his fellow school Heads from rival schools from around Europe. He had of course received the owl from Gringotts, and he'd been fairly alarmed that Miss Potter had indeed been serious in her inquiry. Albus took a look around the lounge and saw Igor Karkaroff from Durmstrang sitting with one leg over the other, his standard fur coat and hat striking an intimidating figure and accentuating the slight gleam in his eye that Dumbledore knew was from having the possible addition of another famous student at his school.

Then there was Olympe Maxime from Beauxbâtons, a great towering figure of a woman, standing at almost nine feet in height, but just wide enough that she seemed willowy, and not gangly. Clad in black satin robes and resplendent in opal jewelry, she looked graceful and majestic, even sitting down.

From Toro Orgulloso, there was a wiry, tanned man by the name of Alvaro Modreas. He wore a grey medieval smock-type jacket with his school's mascot of a blue bull impaled with a tasseled sword on the left breast, sturdy looking pants, and black dragon-hide boots. To complete his outfit, Alvaro was equipped with a wide leather belt with a square buckle, and attached to his hip was an elegant sabre, sheathed in black leather with a silver pirate style basket-guard hilt. From Dumbledore's experience, Alvaro was a man not to be trifled with, as evidenced by his eyes scouring the room for any threats.

Finally, all the way from Maximi Scholam itself, was Zaccaria Cerelli. He was a peaceful looking elderly man with white hair dressed in dark brown Gregorian robes, the front held together by silken rope with large tassels hanging down the front. He carried a gnarled, pitted stave of Alder wood, whittled so that it was wild and natural at the top, like roots or the intermingled branches of an ancient tree, but smooth and straight for the majority of the shaft. The bottom was capped in amber and pitch, making it an impressively natural craft. Albus was not fooled though, he was aware of how vicious and wily the man was, him being older even than Albus himself. Come to think about it, he was not even sure Bathilda Bagshot nor Garrick Ollivander were as old as Zaccaria.

Headmaster Moreas and Elder Cerelli were speaking in hushed voices, and Madame Maxime was speaking in a low rumble to Headmaster Karkaroff when Albus walked in. No sooner had he entered the room, all conversation had ceased and Madame Maxime rose from her seat to properly welcome him in her lightly accented English. "Ah, Dumbledore. I see you 'ave managed to arrive to this event as well. You 'ave been well?" Albus responded in kind, saying "Of course, my dear Madame. Though I shall soon have to have Minerva make these trips for me, I am afraid." He smiled and nodded to the others in the room. As he did so, a goblin made its way into the room from one of the adjacent meeting halls.

"Esteemed sirs and lady, please let me be the first to welcome you to this round of interviews requested by Miss Coline Potter. You will have already gathered the necessary supplies and paperwork for enrollment in case they are required?" The heads of the represented schools nodded fervently. "I should then inform you that before you meet with Miss Potter, her guardian will be speaking with each of you individually. For an image of fair play and equality, you will be required to draw lots for the order in which you will be meeting with Miss Potter and her guardian." The goblin held out a small box with folded pieces of parchment in it. He then walked around the room and the heads took a parchment each.

"Please call out your numbers in order from one to five." The goblin requested, holding up a larger piece of parchment with an empty list on it. Igor Karkaroff grunted out his number first. "Von." The goblin dutifully scrawled _Durmstrang _under the first slot. Zaccaria Cerelli then called out "Two, as it pleases the Goddess." His lips tightening, the goblin noted _Maximi Scholam _under the second slot. Albus then handed his number to the goblin saying "I drew the number three." The goblin put _Hogwarts _under the third slot, nodding toward Albus. Alvaro Modreas crinkled his paper and put it in his pocket, curtly saying "Four." _Toro Orgulloso_ was smartly penned into the fourth slot. Finally, Madame Maxine said "Five, Monsieur gobelin." The goblin nodded and put _Beauxbâtons_ under the fifth slot.

The goblin put his quill away and stated calmly "If the representative of Durmstrang Institute of Magic will follow me, we can begin the first round of interviews." Karkaroff rose from his seat, dusted the front of his coat, and then followed the goblin into the first interview hall. The rest of the headmasters and one headmistress were left with a heavy feeling in their stomachs, knowing the future of the Wizarding world could very well be decided by what happened today.

**AN: **_Alright, everyone, that's a wrap. It's a little shorter than I would have liked it to be, but I had to stop it somewhere decent, and I didn't feel like doing all of the interviews today. So, I likely will be updating again in a few days, and I'm going to be taking the Greyhound from Oregon, USA, to Michigan, USA. It'll take three days, so I'll have a lot of time for writing. Anyway, I have a poll for you wonderful readers. In your reviews, please let me know which of the five schools presented that you would like our dear Coline to end up at. My plot is fairly loose ended, and I can work around a lot of suggestions. Though I should warn you, one of the schools will only be temporary if she gets sent there first. I spent a lot of time coming up with these two extra schools, and I would be remiss if I were not to complement xArtehx for their help in fleshing them out. Thank you, xArtehx, for your help, and I look forward to all of your reviews, dear readers._

_Signing off,_

_Vincent Argeneau_


	8. The Wheel Weaves as the Wheel Wills

**AN:** _Hello, my dear readers. It's been a long time, hasn't it? I admit that I've been procrastinating with this chapter. I've been having something of a bad case of writer's block. Hopefully you haven't been waiting too long, as I wouldn't want to frustrate you. It seems like a lot of you have put in your voice as to where Coline should go and some of you even gave reasons, which I appreciate. Now, this chapter is not going to see Coline headed to a school, but it'll be a lot more political maneuvering. Most of you will likely find this chapter boring, but poo on you, because it's needed. Anyway, on with the show._

_P.S.: The person who first guesses and PM's the title's reference will receive an opportunity to be depicted in my story as they wish, be it teacher, student, or politician._

**Chapter 8: The Wheel Weaves as the Wheel Wills**

As Igor Karkaroff stepped into the room, the other school administrators waited in anticipation. After a mere four minutes, Albus heard the cursing voice of the Bulgarian headmaster as he stormed out of the conference room. Albus' eyes widened slightly at the man's language. _That is certainly no way to make an impression. The muggle woman must not have received him well. That is a pity, though it is definitely advantageous for Hogwarts. _Albus was drawn from his reverie as their goblin host announced "Will the representative of Maximi Scholam make their way to the conference room?" Zaccaria Cerelli stood and made his way slowly to the slightly opened doorway.

One hour later, the door opened quietly and Zaccaria stepped out, and serene smile on his lips. He stooped down to speak to the goblin quietly, and the goblin gestured toward a small side door. Zaccaria quietly made his way through the door, and the goblin looked toward the board again. "Will the representative for Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry please make their way to the conference room?" Albus stood, dusting off the back of his robes. He then made his way to the door, and stepped inside.

Sitting quietly on one side of a large table, Mrs. Pierson raised her eyes from the pamphlet she was reading with gusto. "So, you are the headmaster of the esteemed Hogwarts School." Albus nodded cautiously, aware of the woman's slightly hard gaze. He had not felt as childish as he did for a long while. This woman was almost as stern looking as his old History of Magic teacher Magnold Yalts. "I am, my good lady. How are we to proceed with the interview?" He pulled a lemon drop from one of his inside pockets, offering it to the woman across from him. She raised her hand, palm facing him, a universal sign of denial. Shrugging, he popped the treat into his mouth, humming at the tart but sweet taste.

Mrs. Pierson set the pamphlet down and picked up a thick folder, filled with what Albus presumed to be information about his prestigious Hogwarts. The moved it off to the side and set her elbows on the table, her chin resting on intertwined fingers. "Coline has told me of her treatment by one Madame Minerva McGonagall. She is an employee of yours, correct?" Nodding his head, Albus responded "Indeed, Miss…" he trailed off, looking pointedly at Mrs. Pierson. "Pierson." She said pointedly, reaching across the table to shake his hand. "Indeed. A wonderful name, that, Madame Pierson. I believe there was a young with at my school not too long ago with the surname. You should ask the goblins of Gringotts to see if you have any magical relatives." Contentedly, Albus looked over his spectacles at the woman whose lips were pressed dangerously thin.

"My family situation is none of your concern, headmaster. If I take your advice, which I am not sure I shall, it will be on my own time, and after much deliberation." Mrs. Pierson said with a flinty look in her eyes. "What your concern is, at present, is to convince me why I should even consider allowing Coline to meet with you after the impression your recruiter made with her. She was justifiably enraged at the audacity and prejudice with which Mrs. McGonagall dressed her down in public. The first impression made with your establishment has not been favorable, headmaster. Please though, speak your piece." She graciously waved Albus on, and pulled out a biro pad and mechanical pencil, making unblinking eye contact with the elderly professor.

"Well," Albus began, sweating slightly at under the scrutiny of this muggle, "let me begin by offering my sincerest apologies for Minerva's actions, and be the first to state that the good Madame's views are not the views of Hogwarts School. Should Coline be allowed to brace our halls, she will receive a full apology from my esteemed Deputy Headmistress, and allowed to express herself as she sees fit."

"Your apology is accepted on my part, headmaster, but I am not the one offended. The one you should apologize to, given the chance, is Coline. Know that she has been in therapy for a few years, and is on an active regimen of female hormones and testosterone blocker. Would your boarding school be willing and able to provide Coline with the requisite medications should she attend?" Albus thought a moment, and then nodded hesitantly. "We at Hogwarts have on staff the most illustrious Mediwitch and Potions Master in magical Europe. Should we be provided the ingredients for young Coline's potions, they would of course be willing and able to recreate the medications."

Mrs. Pierson raised an eyebrow in question. Mediwitches? Potions? She cleared her throat, stating "I do not understand these potions and Mediwitches you speak of, but I assume they refer to your medical facilities and pharmacy?" Dumbledore nodded with a small smile, saying "Indeed. I believe the non-magical community produces their medical effects based off a science called chemistry?" Mrs. Pierson nodded hesitantly, waiting to see where the man was going with his question. "We of the magical community use potions, a line of magic that is subtle and difficult to master. Through magical flora, fauna, and other materials, we make substances capable of achieving much that muggle society has long thought impossible. I am sure that with Mediwitch Pompfrey and out Potions Master Severus Snape, we should be able to recreate and possibly improve on any medications your ward may be in need of."

Mrs. Pierson quickly scrawled notes on her pad and thought that the headmaster was making a good case for himself so far. "Your school uniform is gender specific, correct? And your dormitories as well?" Albus grimaced. "You are again correct, Madame Pierson. Our dormitories are warded, locked if you will, so as to disallow young gentlemen access to the ladies dormitories. Though what many people do not realize, and in all honesty has never been an issue, thus allowing this loophole, is that the women's dormitory reacts to expression of gender, not physicality. To be frank, young Coline's biological gender should have no impact on her ability to reside in our female dormitories. Should my assumption be correct, and to be honest, they usually are, there should in fact be no issues between Coline and the Castle as to where she shall reside, assuming of course Coline does truly believe herself to be a woman."

Mrs. Pierson was left with many questions, but determined to have them answered by one who was not so apparently invested in Coline's future. "Thank you, headmaster," she said, rising, "please inform the creature outside that you have been looked upon favorably by me. I hope Coline will be as accepting. She is an intelligent girl, and can judge a person's character very well. I suggest that you be completely honest with her and perhaps even offer her some insight into yourself to make her trust you." Albus, smiling widely at Mrs. Pierson, took his hand in hers, bowing over it and laying a small kiss in the back of her knuckled. "It was a pleasure to meet you Madame, and I hope you will keep me in mind should you ever need an education into the world your ward has been plunged into." Blushing, Mrs. Pierson rapped Albus on the shoulder, saying with a tiny smirk, "On with you, headmaster. You received your fair trial."

Albus bowed again, and stepped out of the room, doubling over to speak with the security goblin. He was then surprised to see Zaccaria glide out of the side room and nod at him. Nodding back, Albus was instructed to proceed into the side room. The anxious faces of Madame Maxine and Alvaro Modreas disappeared as the door closed behind him.

"Hello headmaster Dumbledore, might I offer you some tea?" a young voice said from behind Albus. Turning, he saw a young girl who bore much resemblance to her father, barring her eyes. Her eyes were the most pleasant thing the elderly headmaster had seen this day, green as a spring meadow basking in the warm light of the sun. Stunned for a moment, the headmaster stared into those eyes, so unlike the last time he had seen eyes of the same color; cold, glossy as the coating of a new broom, and lifeless. To the contrary, these eyes were brimming with so much vim and vigor that Albus could not but smile happily at how this young child's life had turned out so far. "….asked if you would like some tea, headmaster." Shaking his head quickly, Albus took in the rest of Coline's attire. A pastel green blouse, jeans embroidered with fanciful flowers, and an exquisite silken hair band tied in a knot atop her head, separating her tousled bangs from the cascade of obsidian hair flowing in curls and waves down her back. Sitting in a proper way for a young girl, the child proffered a silver tea set toward him.

"Ah, you must be Coline. I apologize for my rudeness, I was just taken aback at your appearance. I applaud your choice of clothing. It sets off your eyes and hair magnificently. Tell me, how long have you been in transition now?" he asked kindly. Coline blushed slightly behind her tea. Taking a sip, she responded "I have been in therapy for four years now, but only on hormones for two. Does the magical community know of gender transitions, headmaster?" Albus shook his head sadly. "Unfortunately is does not, my dear. The wizarding society, as you might have noticed, is not as technologically advanced as the muggle world." Albus explained. "The mind-sets of our community are likewise hindered in their acceptance of alternate lifestyles. You are in fact, the first person I have ever heard of who wanted to change their gender. I admire your bravery." Taking his wand out, he flicked it at the teapot and chased silver tea cup, making them rise into the air with a lump of sugar and a spoon.

As Coline watched in fascination, the teapot poured the golden brown drink into the cup, while the sugar lowered itself gently, as if into a slightly too hot bathtub. The spoon mixed the sugar in, and the cup floated to Albus' hand. "I… I was able to make the acquaintance of your recruiter earlier, headmaster. I find that she left something to be desired in the area of acceptance and tact toward prospective students." Albus smiled, stating "Well, my dear, when you get to be as old as Minerva and myself, you most often become stuck in your own ways, and being the great-great grandmother of too many young ones to count, as well as being a professor at a highly respected educational facility, she has become something of a disciplinarian and tends not to see things from the point of view of a child anymore. That being said, her actions toward you were not acceptable, and on behalf of Hogwarts school, I apologize."

Coline accepted his apology with aplomb, and they discussed many matters over the next two hours. Coline was happy with the meeting, and sure that the headmaster sincerely was as nice as he was claiming to be. After they had finished discussing Hogwarts, the grounds, and her accommodations, should she decide to attend, she asked one last question. "Headmaster, why should I attend Hogwarts over Woldingham Girl's School or another of the magical education establishments?" Albus thought over this for a few moments before stating "Coline, I am going to tell you something that I have told precious few people in my long, long life." Coline nodded, wary of what might be said. "My name is Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, and I prefer the romantic company of wizards over witches. You may choose another school for its program, or because your mind has not been tainted by one of its faculty, but know that I am available for you to speak to in confidence at any time during the school year, regardless of whether you attend Hogwarts or not. That being said, I hope you will consider my school for your magical education." Albus rose and bowed toward Coline, his hand over his heart. "I assure you, that should you attend, you will not be disappointed.

******Time Skip – Four Hours******

As Madame Maxime left the side room after her interview with Coline, she saw none other than Albus Dumbledore sitting in the waiting room, idly entertaining himself with some strange device. Walking up to him, she said "She is une belle jeune fille, non?" Albus looked up from his toy, smiling. "She is indeed a beautiful, intelligent young lady Maxine. I see that the choice before the young lady is between Beauxbâtons and Hogwarts, yes?" Madame Maxine nodded silently, her smile sliding from her face. "So it seems." She sat next to Albus, contemplating what the young girl might choose.

Coline pondered for a moment, and then asked if Mrs. Pierson was nearby. One of the goblins left and returned after only a short while, accompanied by Mrs. Pierson. "Mrs. Pierson?" Coline said with nary a quaver in her voice, "I think I've made my decision." "And that is, my dearest?" Mrs. Pierson asked, concerned, even though she knew in her heart where her young ward would choose to go. "Hogwarts. Mrs. Pierson. I am going to go to Hogwarts. Headmaster Dumbledore made a good case, and I believe he will do his best to accommodate my lifestyle into his schools tenets and rules." Mrs. Pierson smiled and reached out to Coline. "Well, my sweet, we should go break the news to Madame Maxine. I believe she will be disappointed, but she will live." Coline smiled mischievously. "Probably." She snarked, earning her a swat on the head from Mrs. Pierson.

**AN: **_Ah, that feels much better. For all you readers, I understand that this chapter may be very boring. But I had to get it out of the way, and I hope you all understand my reasoning for it. Worry not, my choice in Coline's schooling will become clear with time, and hopefully now that I've gotten over this writer's block, I'll be able to update more frequently. Be prepared for more from Maxima Scholam and Toro Orgulloso in the future. I didn't make them just for them to fall into the background._


End file.
